


May Your Days Be Merry and Bright

by harrylouisinlove (livvywrites)



Series: Dilly Boy [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg Harry, No Smut, Parent Harry, Parent Louis Tomlinson, babies being born on louis' birthday, there's no pandemic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:15:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livvywrites/pseuds/harrylouisinlove
Summary: Prompt: A baby is born on Christmas morning. Louis doesn’t get to celebrate his birthday as normal but he’s so grateful for his present this yearThe babies haven’t moved as much as usual, which worried Harry in his first pregnancy, but now he’s a pro at this birth thing and knows that when the babies are this big, there’s not much room for them to move. Which, Harry’s well aware how big the babies are. He’s got the belly to prove it. He just hopes that if the babies are this overdue, it can wait one or two days so Louis can have his birthday for himself. He already has to share his birthday with the Christmas craze, he shouldn’t have to share with two babies. Louis says he doesn’t mind, but Harry likes to think everyone has their own special day.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: Dilly Boy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1241909
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69
Collections: 1D Christmas Fest 2020, Favorite Larry Fanfics





	May Your Days Be Merry and Bright

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 1DChristmasFest. I've had the idea to expand the Dilly 'verse for a year, but I didn't finish it in time for last Christmas so when I saw this prompt I couldn't resist!
> 
> Title from the one and only _White Christmas_.
> 
> To read the other fabulous fics in the fest, please [click here!](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/1dchristmasfest2020)

The first thing that popped into Harry’s head when he saw the two lines on the pregnancy test was  _ how do I grow another hand _ ? And when the doctor not only confirmed the pregnancy, but also told them they were having twins, he thanked God they had four hands in total, because now they’d have one kid per hand. Because really, two kids are alright. He’s got two hands to hold each of them, and he’s got a husband who can take care of one of them if the other’s fussy. His husband comes from a big family, they’re seven of them in total, and has never shied away from having a big family, especially since he knows Harry’s always wanted one. He grew up with only one sister after all. And now he’s pregnant with two more. He can’t fucking wait.

*

“All right, my loves,” Harry says, arms full of arts and crafts. “We need to write really nice letters for Father Christmas, so he’ll know what you wish for, okay?”

“Yes, Daddy!” Ollie shouts, jumping up and down on the sofa. Sitting down, Harry puts a soothing hand on Ollie’s shoulder.

“No jumping on the sofa, Dilly.”   
“I can’t help it,” Ollie says, sitting down next to his sister, “I’m super excited for Father Christmas!” He’s still kind of shouting, but at least he’s sitting down, which Harry counts as a win. Small victories and all that. Ruby, on the other hand, is sitting still like a nice little girl, only swatting her tiny hand at her brother when Ollie’s shouts get too intense, whining when she can’t hear the telly. Harry strokes Ruby over her hair, and reaches over to pause the film.    
“Daddy!” Ruby pouts, “Daniel Tiger!”

“Don’t you wanna write a letter for Father Christmas? You don’t have to,” Harry says, “but then he won’t know what to get you.” That seems to do the trick. Ruby tears her eyes from the telly, and gapes at his Daddy.

“Daddy, Father Christmas! Father Christmas today?” Harry smiles.   
“Not today, baby, but we’ll write some letters for him today so he’ll come at Christmas!”   
“Good,” Ruby says.

*

“Ruby, I want the red crayon now!”

“No, Ollie, mine!” Harry closes his eyes and sighs. He thought sitting down and writing letters to Father Christmas with his children would calm them down, but apparently Ollie just  _ cannot  _ and  _ will not  _ use the yellow crayon anymore. Of course he wants to use the exact shade Ruby uses. Being on parental leave already meant that when Ruby woke up with a snotty nose, he had to come up with some indoor activities. Harry thought this would mean cosying up in front of a Christmas film, drinking some hot chocolate, and maybe squeeze in a bit of baking when Louis came home. He wasn’t expecting two shouting kids, one of which absolutely hating the idea of sitting still the entire day. He’s regretted the decision to keep Ollie home more than once already, and it’s only half past ten. 

“Please, don’t shout,” he says as he sits down between the two kids. “Ollie, wait for your turn, I bet Ruby’s finished soon.” Ollie huffs and puffs like it’s the worst news he’s heard all day. Harry bites his lip, knowing better than to laugh. He gets his temper from Louis, and Harry’s been living with Louis for over ten years now, so he knows what battles to ignore. 

“Look Daddy, it Rudolph,” she says, pointing at her drawing of what could be Rudolph, but also could be just a blob.

“What have you written, Dilly?” Harry asks, trying to divert his bad mood. Oliver levels him with a stare that screams Louis. He truly is his son.   
“I can’t tell you, Daddy, it’s a secret. Father Christmas won’t come if I do.” Harry smiles.

“I’ll keep it a secret, I promise.” Ollie slides his paper closer to Harry after a few moments of consideration.

“Um, a boy doll,” he says. Harry nods.

“And a horse, because I need a horse.” Harry raises his eyebrows.

“You  _ need _ a horse? Honey, we can’t fit a horse in the house.” Ollie rolls his eyes, and shakes his head in disbelief.

“Silly Daddy, she can’t live in the house. She’s a horse. She will live in the garden.” Harry slaps his forehead, and shakes his head too.

“Silly Daddy,” he agrees. Turning to Ruby, he sweeps some of his daughter’s hair from her eyes. “And what have you drawn for Father Christmas, my love?”

“Um, a book,” she says, unbothered by Harry’s fussing. “And, and lego, and play-doh.”

“That’s nice,” Harry says, leaning over to kiss her head.

“When is Papa coming home? I miss him,” Ollie says, poking Harry’s arm relentlessly. Harry tries to swat away his tiny hand, but he only proceeds to try to stand on his thighs instead. Harry winces, his feet digging down into his thighs. Picking him up by his armpits, he sits him down next to him instead, leaning forward to tap his phone screen.

“Not for a while, lovely. Do you wanna help me find the tree decorations?” His question makes both his children screech in delight. Normally, Ollie’s the loud one out of his two children, but Christmas makes everyone happy, he supposes. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, after all.

*

Why Harry thought it would be a good idea to bake with two excited children, while being heavily pregnant is a question best left unanswered right now, because he’s about one second to bawl his eyes out. There’s flour everywhere, and a few of the gingerbread men are slightly burnt at the edges. Ollie’s blonde hair is streaked with blue icing, and Ruby’s shirt is splattered with yellow. Harry’s even had to force them to sit on opposite sides of the table, because they kept arguing about what colours to use. As Harry’s washing up and wiping off the surfaces to start preparing for dinner, he sees them move closer again from the corner of his eye. Sighing, he sends a quick prayer that they’ll behave themselves because he’s sure he’ll scream if they start fighting again. His feet are also super swollen and he’d love to lie down, but Ollie declared loudly that it was time for dinner because the clock almost said a five, and both he and Ruby were starving to death. So here he stands instead chopping up ingredients for bolognese whilst rubbing his lower back from time to time.

(But when he looks at his children sitting at the table decorating sugar cookies with all the colours of the rainbow, and his anger washes away. For once, they’re not arguing about wanting the red colour, or who’s turn it is to choose shape first. They’re actually sitting quietly next to each other, tongues out in concentration. Harry probably has flour in his hair and batter on his face, but he can’t help sneaking a photo or two of Oliver and Ruby, before sitting down at the table with them. When they’re nice and calm like this, he doesn’t quite regret staying home with them.)

Louis comes home just as he’s draining the pasta water. He slams the car door as per usual, and before Harry can tell his children to say put, there’s a big black dog running right into his legs, happy to be home with the whole of his pack again. Hearing Clifford’s nails against the floor, Ollie and Ruby spin around quickly, tumbling off their chairs to get to the front door, dog chasing after them.

“Please stay inside!” Harry calls after them, but no doubt they’ll be running outside to meet Louis by the car if he hasn’t come inside yet. He really doesn’t look forward to the dirty, wet socks Ruby will complain about in about five seconds. He can hear the door shut, and his children’s excited voices as they tell their Papa about their day.

“Daddy! Daddy, come look!” He hears as he’s putting away the sugar cookies the kids left behind so he can set the table. Wiping his hands off on his already dirty t-shirt, he waddles across the kitchen out to the hallway. 

“Oh my goodness,” he says, for all he’s seeing is a giant Christmas tree coming through the door. 

“Daddy!” he hears from behind, “see our big tree?”

“I do see,” he laughs. “I don’t see you though, have my children turned into a Christmas tree?” Both Ollie and Ruby start laughing their screech-like kids’ laughter, and Harry can’t help but laugh even more at the two of them. From somewhere behind the tree, he hears his husband’s lovely laugh join in as well.

“No, Daddy, don’t be silly!” Ollie laughs. “We’re helping Papa because it’s so huge!”

“And it’s cold, so we wanted to hurry inside,” Louis adds. “Have you prepared the tree stand, babe?”

“Of course we have, come in before you freeze to death!” Squeezing in the big tree through the narrow door proves quite the task, and Harry can hear Ruby complain twice about cold feet before they’re all finally inside. Louis brings the tree into the living room, while Harry carries Ruby to the sofa. He removes her wet socks from her freezing feet, and rubs them between his hands, blowing warm air on them carefully.

“You okay now, honey?” he asks, reaching up to wipe the tears off Ruby’s cheeks. She nods, sniffling as she does.

“Yes, Daddy, thank you.” Behind him, Harry can hear Ollie bugging Louis about when they can decorate the tree. His feet are bare, which probably means his socks are laying on the floor somewhere. Harry presses a kiss to Ruby's feet, making her giggle.

“Should we put the fire on? And then help Papa and Ollie decorate the tree after we have dinner? You can help put the star on the top if you want.”

“Yes, yes please,” Ruby says, nodding fervently, “I help, Daddy!”

“Okay,” Harry says, giving one more kiss to Ruby’s feet before standing up. “Let’s get your slippers, and then we’ll go eat some spaghetti, yeah? Dilly, help your sister find her slippers, and grab yours too,” he says, smiling as Ollie grabs his sister’s hand and helps her up the stairs. 

With both children out of the room, Harry heads straight for his husband. He dives right into Louis’ arms, and squeezes him tightly. It’s kind of weird hugging him with a big baby bump between them, but they manage somehow.

“Hi, baby,” Louis exhales, turning his head to kiss the side of Harry’s head. Harry burrows his face closer to the junction where Louis’ shoulder meets his neck.

“Hey,” Harry sighs, contentedly. “How was work? Did Cliff behave for the kids?” Louis leads them to the sofa, sitting down close. 

“It’s all right, you know,” he says. “Cliff was well-behaved, weren’t you lad?” He leans in to give Harry a quick kiss. “How was your day?” Harry doesn’t have time to answer before they’re attached by two little cannonballs with sharp elbows and knees.

“Time for dinner, Daddies!”

*

Harry wakes up on Louis’ birthday (also almost two weeks after his due date) feeling a bit iffy. He’s been feeling like this for the past few days with no baby, so he’s not too worried. He’s supervising Oliver and Ruby making sure the birthday tray is to perfection, before walking behind his children up the stairs. The babies haven’t moved as much as usual, which worried Harry in his first pregnancy, but now he’s a pro at this birth thing and knows that when the babies are this big, there’s not much room for them to move. Which, Harry’s well aware how big the babies are. He’s got the belly to prove it. He just hopes that if the babies are this overdue, it can wait one or two days so Louis can have his birthday for himself. He already has to share his birthday with the Christmas craze, he shouldn’t have to share with two babies. Louis says he doesn’t mind, but Harry likes to think everyone has their own special day.

Oliver slams the door open and starts singing loudly, with Ruby quickly following. 

“Happy birthday dear Papa! Happy birthday to youuu!” They all sing, slightly out of key. It’s not a birthday song if it’s not out of key, Harry thinks. Louis sits up in bed, looking sleep-warm, and his fringe hangs softly across his forehead. The kids jump up to crowd next to their Papa, throwing their gifts into his face and yelling over each other to “open my present first Papa!”. Harry puts the tray on the bedside table next to Louis, before sitting down gingerly by his family’s feet, rubbing his stomach as he does. The babies still don’t move, which is unusual for this time of day, but Harry pushes his worries away. It’s Louis’ birthday after all, that’s more important. 

“Thank you, my loves,” Louis says, grinning so hard his eyes all but disappear. He opens the presents (decidedly) not wrapped in the same Christmas wrapping as the presents under the tree downstairs. Both Harry and the children (mostly Harry to be honest, the kids just have to go along with it whether they’d like it or not) do this every year, try to separate Louis’ birthday from Christmas as much as possible. It’s just-- nicer, even if Louis keeps telling him he doesn’t care what wrapping it is. Harry sits there silently, watching his husband and kids interact and them climbing all over Louis when he opens their gifts. He likes this. He’s content with his life. He rubs a hand over his stomach, letting his baby know that this is it. This is the life they’ll be born into, and this is a great life. They’ll be born into a family filled with love and happiness. It’s a nice thought. 

*

“Nan!” Oliver shouts, running to the front door. Ruby looks up from sitting in her Auntie Daisy’s lap, quickly following her brother. Louis excuses himself quickly from his conversation with Gemma’s husband Michal to run after his children.

“Ollie, Ruby, you know you’re not allowed to open the door by yourselves!” The kids stop right as Oliver’s hand reaches the handle, and he sighs. Turning around, he puts his hands on his hips and stares Louis down.

“But it’s Nan, Pa, I know it, she’s the only one who’s not here.”

“I know babe, but you’re still not allowed without me or Daddy here.” Oliver rolls his eyes.

“You’re here now, can we open the door?” When Louis raises his eyebrows at Oliver’s attitude, he quickly throws in a  _ please? _

Hearing the commotion by the door, Harry gets up from the sofa, walking into the kitchen to do some finishing touches to Louis’ birthday dinner. He’s been standing in the kitchen all day, shooing Louis away whenever he’s tried to come help. He knows Louis just wants to help and make sure he’s not overdoing anything at this stage of his pregnancy, but it’s his birthday after all. And Harry likes taking care of his family. So what if his ankles are swollen and his feet hurt? He can rest when the babies are born. (Yeah, sure). He’s just sprinkling some basil on the meatballs, when he feels his stomach tighten up. He grabs the counter and tries to breathe through it, thinking nothing of it. He’s been having Braxton Hicks for weeks, he’s scheduled for induced labour in a week, and it’s his husband’s birthday. This is fine. He can make it through one dinner. 

“Daddy!” Oliver comes yelling into the kitchen. “Nan’s here. She brought the cake!”

“That’s great, Dilly,” Harry manages to grit out.

“Daddy are you okay? Do you want me to call Papa?” Harry shakes his head and clears his throat.

“No that’s okay, honey, I’m alright. Let’s go eat dinner, can you tell everyone it’s ready?” Oliver hesitates, but runs out of the kitchen again. Their family move loudly into the dining room, which Oliver and Ruby proudly helped Harry decorate last night, and he hears Oliver bragging about it as he follows his Nana into the room. Harry suffers through another contraction (it’s real contractions, he’s finally admitting that to himself now) as he grabs the large plate of spaghetti and meatballs. He’s been timing the contractions a bit, and they’re not too close right now. After two births, he thinks he can tell when it’s time for real. The hospital will only tell him to stay at home as long as possible and take it easy right now anyway, he’ll be fine. As he braces himself to bring the dinner into the dining room and his hungry guests, he realises he’s not as fine as he thought, because just as he starts walking, a contraction hits him so hard he drops the plate on their tiled kitchens floors. And to make matters worse, he feels tears stream down his face right as the plate reaches the floor.

Louis comes running into the kitchen, panic in his eyes.

“Harry, are you okay?” he asks before even seeing the mess. “Oliver said you were acting funny.” There’s no denying what’s going on now. Harry holds his hand to his stomach, rubbing it as to sooth the babies. 

“I’m sorry Lou, but the babies are coming,” he says as yet another contraction hits. Louis’ eyes widen, but he hurries to grab Harry’s hand and carefully walks over the mess on the floor. Louis shouts to someone to clean up in the kitchen, and as he helps Harry with his coat, Anne comes rushing out from the dining room.

“Is it time?” she asks. Louis nods, and asks her to make sure everyone gets something to eat. He’s just about to let her know that he’ll call her later when Harry squeezes his hand hard.

“Lou, we have to go  _ now _ !”

“Okay, okay,” Louis says, guiding Harry out the door. They turn around to wave and blow kisses to everyone, but mostly to Oliver and Ruby, who’s holding onto their Nan’s hands as hard as they can.

“If you’re not home tomorrow, can we still open our presents?” Oliver shouts as they drive down the street and toward the hospital.

*

Harry wakes up to gentle whispers. He turns his head and sees his beautiful beautiful husband talking to his beautiful beautiful new baby daughter. In the cot next to them, Charlie lies fast asleep. Harry checks the clock on the wall, and sees that Louis still has a couple of hours left on his birthday. 

“I’m sorry you have to share your birthday with even more people”, Harry whispers eventually, making Louis stop talking to Estée and looking up to him. He absolutely radiates happiness, and it’s such a good look on him. 

“That’s alright, babe,” he says, grinning wide. “Not like you could help it, just shows how much these two love their Papa already.” Harry chuckles quietly. He’s exhausted. It’s been quite a day. It started with cooking for 18 people, and ended with bringing two more into the world. 

“Can’t wait to go home and celebrate Christmas with all of our children,” Harry says, making grabby hands toward his baby daughter. “Did the nurse say it was okay for us to go home today?” Louis stands up, carefully handing Estée over to her Daddy, picking up Charlie from his cot as he sits back down next to Harry’s bed. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna stay the night?” he asks. “You look exhausted, baby.” But Harry pouts, and looks down at Estée, stroking a finger over her baby soft forehead and cheeks. She’s got Harry’s lips, and both twins were born with a head full of dark hair, just like himself, but he can’t see what else they’ve got from either of them. They’re only three hours old after all, so it’s not like they don’t have time to grow up to look like their parents. 

“I wanna celebrate Christmas morning with all my children,” he says, still pouting. Estée opens her eyes, and Harry smiles at her, but she only smacks her lips and closes her eyes again. 

“Okay,” Louis says, bouncing Charlie a little. “I’ll talk to the nurses.”

*

It’s a little after midnight when they finally come home. They kiss Harry’s mum goodnight after she’s done fawning over her new grandbabies, and after she walks into the guest bedroom, they bring their babies upstairs. Harry’s a little sore and a lot exhausted, but when Louis suggests they’d go right to bed, he still stops to take a look at his older babies. They’re both sleeping in Oliver’s room, like they have been doing for the last couple of Christmas Eve’s, and he can’t help but smile. He feels like his cheeks might pop from smiling too much today. He’s allowed though. It’s been an amazing day. Louis comes up behind him and rests his chin over Harry’s shoulder, the twin still in their car seats by their feet. 

“We’re really lucky, aren’t we?” Harry whispers. 

“The luckiest,” Louis whispers back, and pulls back a little to press a kiss to Harry’s shoulder. “Come on my love, let’s go to bed. Who knows how these two’ll be sleeping, and it’s Christmas tomorrow. Ollie and Ruby’ll probably be up at dawn.” He leans down to grab the handles of the car seats, and walks back to their bedroom. Harry stays put a few seconds longer. They’re a family of six now. He won’t have enough hands to hold all of his children any more. Luckily, he’s got a gorgeous husband by his side, and thank God they have four hands in total, because now they’ll have one kid per hand. It’s the perfect fit.

*

  
Harry wakes up to the smell of breakfast and to fingers poking his face.

“Daddy”, Ollie whisper-shouts. Six years old, and he still hasn’t learned to whisper properly. “Daddy, wake up, it’s Christmas. And the babies are here!” Harry smiles before opening his eyes. 

“Good morning, Dilly boy,” he says. “The babies  _ are _ here, are you excited to be a big brother again?” He sits up and brings Oliver close, pressing Christmas kisses to his curly head. 

“Yeah! Come on, Nan’s making pancakes for breakfast, and she said we could have whipped cream and hot chocolate as well because it’s Christmas!” Harry strokes his biggest boy over his hair, a look of awe on his face. 

“I’ll be right down,” he says. As Oliver runs out of the room and down the stairs, he hears Louis shout at him to  **_walk_ ** _ down the stairs please!  _ before he sees him coming into the bedroom, one twin on each arm. 

“Good morning, darling,” Louis says. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Harry says. “Thanks for letting me sleep in.” Louis attempts to shrug, and Harry chuckles. It doesn’t look all too easy.

“You had a big day yesterday. ‘Least I could do.” Harry shakes his head, beckoning his husband to come sit down next to him. In a maneuver that’s a bit too close to perfection, Louis hands Charlie over to Harry. Well, Louis’ the big brother of two sets of twins, he’s had the practice after all. Harry just has to hurry to get on his level.

“Hi baby,” Harry whispers to Charlie. “Merry first Christmas. Hope you’ll like it. It’s a lot of fun, all smiles and good food and pretty lights and cosy films on tv. And when you’re bigger, you’ll have lots of toys to play with. I think you’re gonna love it. Both of you,” he says and leans over to stroke Estée over her dark hair. Harry looks up at Louis to find him already looking back. He leans in and presses his lips to Louis’ once, twice, three times, before Oliver and Ruby shouts at them to hurry up before the pancakes get cold.

“We wanna open our presents!” Oliver shouts, Ruby agreeing quickly.

“Merry Christmas, my darling,” Louis says, kissing him once more before getting up.

“Merry Christmas, Lou.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the [fic post](https://harrylouisinlove.tumblr.com/post/635929556742733824/may-your-days-be-merry-and-bright-by) if you'd like to share it. Thanks for reading!


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